


Tempting an angel in the den of iniquity

by Borealisblue



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Alpha Centauri - Freeform, Crowley may be the tempter but he still needs love, Crowley's stupidly in love, Dancing, Dancing Lessons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exploring each other’s bodies, First Kiss, First Time, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Intense Love making, Jealous Crowley, Lap Sitting, Love Confessions, M/M, Nightclub fic, Possessive Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Sexy Times, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Soft sex, Temptations, Touching, a grinding demon, an innocent angel, fight and make up, tender Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-07-19 21:24:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19980730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Borealisblue/pseuds/Borealisblue
Summary: When Crowley finds Aziraphale at a night club he couldn't believe it at first. That was until the angel asks for his help with a miracle and Crowley agrees. While helping he quickly discovers an opportunity of possibly initiating a physical relationship with the angel, but the only way this could be explored is if he could tempt the angel enough under the guise of helping.





	1. The Den of Iniquity

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't have a beta reader so all mistakes are my own. Hopefully, there are none but you know how it goes. Comments breathe life into me.

Crowley sat languidly at the bar, drink in his hand and bored out of his mind. It wasn’t like he didn’t like this particular club, but he had grown rather disinterested in the things that took place there. It was the same every night. People got drunk, listened to terrible music and did activities they would regret in the morning. A real devils-den of iniquity, but he had seen it all before.

He had been away for a few days, messing around with a few law firms on the outskirts of London and had come straight here after completing a few temptations. He hefted a sigh as the same song with a different remix was played on a loop over the speakers. He should have gone to visit Aziraphale. He didn’t even know why he had been compelled to come here. After their close call with the end of the world and their respective reprimands with their head offices, they had grown closer as a result. Before, they normally met in secret, once every few months, carefully hiding their rendezvous from heaven and hell. Now they constantly found ways to be near each other and had gotten very close. Falling back into their usual work habits. A miracle here, a temptation there, they spent most of their time feeding the ducks or going on long walks through the park. Dinner at the Ritz was always a given and occasionally it was followed by an elaborate drinking session in the quiet haven of Aziraphale’s bookshop.

Crowley looked at the bottom of his shot glass and found himself debating on whether or not to leave. He could still visit the angel’s bookshop if he left right now. The night was young and he could be there in 10-ish minutes in his Bentley. If he called ahead the angel might have some cocoa waiting for him. 

Having made his decision to go see his friend he stood up and flipped his shot glass upside down on the counter. He was just about to leave when a conversation to his right caught his attention.

“How do you think he got in?”

“Probably got lost on the way to a victorian costume party. No sane person would ever dress like that.”

Crowley’s head jerked towards the speakers, a bartender who was leaning over the counter conversing with one of the clubs bouncers. There was only one person on earth they could have been talking about.

“Should I throw him out?”

“Yeah get rid of him, dressed like that he’s bad for business.”

Crowley twisted around and craned his neck to look out over the dancing crowd of London’s wasted youth. He didn’t have to look long as his sight arrested on a man dressed in white who was painfully standing out amongst the throng of dark colors.

Aziraphale.

Despite the odd fact that the angel was in a grungy, grimy club, Crowley couldn’t help but feel delighted to see him there. His boring night was about to get a wholelot more interesting, and he didn’t even have to drive to Aziraphale’s place for it to happen.

The bouncer began to step forward and Crowley quickly stopped him.

“Whoa, uh, hey listen, I know that bloke. He’s probably here for me. Let me take care of him.” And before the bouncer could say anything Crowley had quickly pushed his way forward through the mass of dancing people, heading straight towards the angel.

As he got closer he could see the Aziraphale’s troubled expression, his eyebrows were knitted together in worry and his light blue eyes darted about frantically with his mouth pinched in a frown. He looked unnerved to be standing in the club and his hands flitted about nervously as he bobbed up and down on his toes trying but failing to look out over the crowd. 

Altogether he looked adorably lost.

“Aziraphale!” He cried jovially over the loud music, “What brings you here?” He said coming up from behind him and slapping his hand down on the angels startled shoulder.

“Crowley!” The angel said whipping around. “Oh am I glad to see you here dear boy.” His expression morphed into one of great relief at seeing a familiar face.

“A bit lost are we? Or did you come looking for me?” Crowley drawled a smile playing vainly on his lips.

“Um no, actually, although I am glad I ran into you. I’m supposed to be here. Some sort of miracle. I’m looking for a certain man. Although I must admit that this club is different from the one I expected.”

Crowley threw his head back and laughed “Aziraphale things have changed since the 1800s this is what clubs are like nowadays. People don’t just sit in parlors anymore.”

The angel self consciously blushed as if that’s exactly what he thought. “No, I suppose not.”

Crowley glanced around them and even in the dark club and he could see the angel's presence was gaining a bit more attention than he liked. Flocks of people were beginning to stop their crude grinding and stare at the interloper in pristine clothes. He turned towards the bar and sure enough the bouncer he had stopped before was once again heading their way to throw them out.

He grabbed Aziraphles arm. “Come on. “ 

“Wait, where are we going?”

“ _You_ are going home. Give me the miracle and I’ll finish it for you.” 

“But wait, Crowley, I can’t. Ever since the whole armageddon debacle, Gabriel has been checking my miracle receipts more often. I need to stay!”

Crowley stopped pulling on his arm and glanced down at his distressed friend as he fretted about under his hand. Pure blue eyes looked up into his glasses in a pleading manner.

Rolling his head back in resignation the demon sighed. “Alright angel, but we still need to go, otherwise you’ll find yourself forcefully ejected out on the street by that bouncer.” He nodded toward the large man heading their way and began pulling Aziraphale towards the loo.

“Whatever for? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You’re dressed wrong,” he commented dryly.

“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” Aziraphale said indignantly looking down at himself.

Crowley grunted not answering as he entered the washroom. Aziraphale was such a clever bloke, yet Crowley often wondered how someone so clever, could be so stupid. “Out.” he barked to the three other patrons in there. They blanched white at his commanding tone and hastily rushed to obey, one with his pants still unzipped.

“Was that really necessary?” Aziraphale asked. “I believe one of those men was still using the lavatory.” 

Crowley ignored him, circling the angel like a vulture. He stopped in front of the principality and smiled wolfishly. He snapped his fingers and Aziraphale's pristine white and oatmeal-colored clothes were replaced with a dark dove gray button-up shirt covered by a slim form-fitting jacket. His pleated pants had been replaced by black chinos rolled up at the hem for a relaxed aesthetic and his loafers were replaced with ebony brogues, that showed a decent amount of ankle.

“Oh, oh goodness!” He looked even more distressed than before looking down at the new clothes and then into the cracked mirror on the wall. “Are you sure I must dress in this manner?”

“Only if you want to stay in the club,” Crowley said with an appreciative gaze that raked up and down the angel's body. He had done a pretty good job if he did say so himself. The angel looked downright fashionable.

He could see the Aziraphale’s cheeks color prettily in the pale florescent lights of the washroom. He was probably the holiest thing to ever set foot in there.

“Now tell me more about this miracle,” Crowley said tilting his head to the side.

“Well, I’m looking for a man named Jason Mills. He is to be saved from a very unfortunate accident this evening. The miracle is supposed to make him realize a better path in life is waiting for him and he will begin making better choices. Once he starts down the right path he will eventually become detrimental to the government in a few short years. The problem is, I can’t seem to find him, although I know the accident is happening tonight in this club.” Aziraphale waved his hand and a small photograph appeared. He handed it to Crowley. “Here’s his picture.”

Crowley took the picture and squinted. The man was very young, looking to be in his early twenties with beardless cheeks and chin that probably scarcely needed a razor. His skin was white, mottled with acne and he had a pleasant but crooked smile stretched across his face. Crowley had a hard time believing that he would eventually be an important government official, but humans looked differently as they aged. Maybe adding some salt and pepper to his hair, and growing into his nose might help.

“That’s no problem angel,” he said handing back the photo, “I’ll help you look for him. I know this place pretty well, but since you are a novice here you’ll have to follow my lead in order not to get kicked out.”

A beautiful smile of gratitude lit up Aziraphale’s face and Crowley was stunned for a few moments before he turned away, cheeks heating slightly. 6000 years and you think he would be used to such a smile by now, yet every time he was graced by one, his heartbeat picked up.

“Do you agree?” He asked casually trying hard not to seem affected by the brilliant smile directed at him.

“Oh yes! I will do whatever you say.” The angel said clapping his hands in delight.

Crowley sighed at the action, but he wasn’t really annoyed.

“Alright follow me.”

They re-entered the main room and Crowley noticed that more people had come in the club while they had been in the washroom. It would make finding this Jason bloke hard. 

He turned to make sure the angel was behind him, he didn’t need Aziraphale getting lost in the crowd.

The angel wasn’t looking at him and instead was busy patting at his clothes, tugging on them to try and straighten the jacket he was wearing self-consciously. He really wasn’t used to wearing such casual things.

“You look fine Aziraphale, don't worry.”

The angel turned to say something to him but was stopped when two large hands appeared from the crowd and slid around his waist. “Don’t you look gorgeous.” Came a rugged voice from behind. A man stepped away from the crowd and gave the angel an appreciative up and down glance with clear hunger in his voice. His pupils, belonging to intoxicated eyes, were blown wide as he pressed himself into Aziraphale’s back cradling him. “Are you lookin’ for a good time mate?”

Crowley reacted so fast he didn’t even realize what he was doing. Grabbing the man’s wrist and yanked the stranger away from touching his angel.

“He’s not interested!” He hissed with slitted eyes narrowing behind his dark shaded glasses. 

He tucked Aziraphale towards his own body protectively.

The man shook his head and blinked a few times in surprise at Crowley’s reaction. Then drunkenly the man shrugged and staggered back into the crowd with a frown marring his features.

“Dressed like that for one bleedin’ moment and some wanker almost steals you out from under me.” Crowley shook his head. “Stay close angel, otherwise you’ll end up in a dark ally somewhere.”

Aziraphale looked at him and nodded nervously, clinging to Crowley’s arm a bit tighter.

Crowley shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t like the angel couldn’t defend himself, he had been the guardian of the eastern gate at one point, but he was ever so innocent when it came to certain things. Moving on and hoping no one noticed his outburst, Crowley began scanning the crowd for the man named Jason.

“See anything?” Aziraphale asked as he too looked about the darkroom.

Lights flashed and the music thrummed in the air making it hard to concentrate. With everyone in constant motion their faces where being cast in and out of the shadows, it would be easy to miss the boy if they weren’t looking hard enough.

Crowley shook his head. “He’s probably somewhere on the dance floor.” He began to pull the angel forward.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Aziraphale if he’s on the dance floor then we should be too.” He began to move again but the angel didn’t budge. He turned back and found Aziraphale’s lips were pinched in apprehension.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that- Well, Will I have to dance?”

Crowley's brow lifted in incredulity. “Of course. I thought you liked to dance.”

“I do but I’ve never danced like...like that.” Crowley followed his gaze to a couple grinding on one another, leaving no space between them.

“Aziraphale you’re gonna be dancing with me. You’ll be fine. Come on, you said you’d do everything I say.”

Aziraphale still hesitated. 

“It’s the only way we’ll spot the boy.” He pointed out.

Looking between Crowley and the dance floor the angel finally nodded with resolve and followed the demon onto the sweaty crowd.

Crowley weaved them through the mass of bodies until he found them a tiny bit of floor in the center of the throng that they could claim for themselves. Demons loved to dance and he was no exception. As he settled them into their area he began to move with the beat.

It was a little easier seeing the faces while pressed up against the crowd and even more so when the crowd was pressed up against you in return, but despite all of the people Crowley around him he did not see the young man. “Any luck?” he asked turning to look at Aziraphale.

The angel was frozen on the dance floor ramrod straight not moving a muscle. He looked so uncomfortable that Crowley winced.

“What’s wrong?” He called over the music.

“This is nothing like the gavotte,” Aziraphale called back.

“Aziraphale the Gavotte's been out of fashion for years. This is how people dance nowadays.”

"Don't like these modern dance moves. It’s not really even dancing," Aziraphale complained. “They’re just wiggling around on each other.”

“They like the feeling it gives ‘em.”

“Well, it’s absurd! They look like drunken primates with no morals.” He sniffed in an uptight manner. 

Crowley suddenly felt the bouncers stare like a physical pressure between his shoulder blades and he glanced around. Sure enough, the clubs security was looking at them suspiciously, probably wondering how Aziraphale had changed his clothes so fast and why they weren’t dancing.

“Come on Aziraphale, you look suspect not dancing. The security guy is looking at you funny. You gotta dance.” Crowley began to move his hips provocatively. “Like this, see me? It’s all in the hips.”

After a few moments of staring Aziraphale began to do something completely different by raising his hands to his hips and trotting in place, it looked akin to some sort of Irish step.

Horrified Crowley’s hands flew to his shoulders, getting the angel to stop his jerking about. 

“Angel that was horrible.” He said making a pained face. “Try and press yourself against me.”

“I-I-I don’t know if I can do this.” Aziraphale stuttered nervously.

“You’re fine angel. Trust me. Just follow my movements.” Crowley assured him. Taking firm possession of Aziraphale’s waist he arranged their bodies closer together.

“Lose yourself in the steady thumping of the music, pay attention to the shifting rhythms and the bodies all around you. If all else fails, just move with my body.”

He began to move the angel, guiding him with his thin hips, in a slow but even tempo that matched the music vibrating the air. Aziraphale frowned a little, concentrating, as he tried to follow Crowley’s suggestions. It was endearing.

“That’s right angel follow my movements,” Crowley praised. He glanced back to the bouncer and the man still seemed to be studying them, but now with less interest. Aziraphale quickly got into sync following Crowley's body and they once again began to search for the boy in the crowd.

It didn’t really register to Crowley at first just how close they were until a certain anatomy point of Aziraphale’s brushed against his hip. Awareness crashed over him in a monstrous moment and comprehension flooded his brain. He had taught an angel to grind. And not just any angel. His _Aziraphale._

Crowley's skin began to heat. Just what had he done?

Aziraphale was suddenly too close. He wanted to fling the angel away. He wanted to pull him closer.

The angel's sweet breath ghosted against his skin as he danced and it was... overwhelming but really in a lovely way.

Reality around him became hyper-focused on the body pressed against his. No one else in the room mattered at that very moment. Satan himself could have appeared and Crowley wouldn’t have even noticed.

The multicolored lights from the dance floor reflected off of the angel's face and hair, outlining him in a rainbow haze. He was beautiful, radiant. Even here in the armpit of London, he shone like a beacon of light.

Crowley could admit to himself that he loved Aziraphale. He had for a long time. He would do anything for the angel, he only need ask, but they had never taken their admiration for each other into the physical realm. Aziraphale often contradicted himself by declaring them enemies, yet he treated the demon with extreme care and equality that no one else showed him. He knew the angel cared for him in some capacity but fear held him back from letting him properly express it. Crowley could acknowledge that it was the same with him. They weren’t supposed to love each other, not with the sides they had chosen when heaven had split.

But... that had been before. 

Now they didn’t have any sides. It was just them. Their own side. Could they be free to have such feelings for one another? Could they possibly take their feelings into the physical realm? 

Humans showed affection through physicality. Touches and kisses. Would it work the same for angels? Could they be weak to such physical touches? Could Aziraphale be weak to his touch?

He deliberately brought the angel closer to his body and pressed his hips further against him to see if he could gain a reaction.

The angel didn’t seem to notice as his face was searching the crowd for the boy they were both supposed to be looking for.

He had wanted to trigger a reaction out of Aziraphale but instead, he seemed to have triggered something within his own body.

Crowley couldn't believe this. He was becoming dizzy with desire as pressed himself against the angel's soft body.

It'd been years since he'd allowed himself to think of his body as anything other than transport for trouble, but now he found himself warming quite readily to the notion of sharing his body with the angel. Lust was a human condition that he had never really felt the need to indulge in. Temping others was what he did, so he was never on the receiving end of such a feeling unless it was Aziraphale temping him out to lunch. 

Now with Aziraphale was sliding against him in the most delicious way and he couldn’t believe how awakening it was. Demons weren’t supposed to want angels, but he’d be lying if he hadn’t at least thought about it in the past. But those had just thoughts in passing, now his body suddenly seemed to want this so very badly. It killed him to not know if Aziraphale was feeling the same way. He wasn’t giving any type of reaction. What if he went too far? Crossed some line that couldn't be uncrossed? Would their friendship be ruined? 

He almost stumbled at the thought.

Should he stop? He could not imagine a world where the angel truly hated him.

As he debated the bodies around them began to compress together for lack of space as the club progressively got fuller as the night went on. Crowley tried not to shudder each time he felt Aziraphale’s shirt innocently ride up, causing the angels impossibly soft skin to brush up against his own through the thin fabric of his shirt.

This was a self-made purgatory. Why did he always do this? First with the cell service, losing the ani-christ, and then with the M25 highway. He seemed to have a knack for causing his own problems.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said suddenly catching him off guard. “I just don’t see him.”

Being forced back to the task at hand Crowley shrugged. “People are still coming in, perhaps he just isn’t here yet.”

Aziraphale nodded. He was so trusting. He had put his faith in a demon that was only thinking about his newly discovered needs, rather than the miracle Aziraphale need to complete.

He scanned the room dutifully, but his eyes kept being drawn back to Aziraphale.

Yes, he should be looking for the boy but now Crowley had a new adjective. A more important adjective in his mind. Tempt the angel.

He would not spend another 6000 years waiting to see it they could be together.

Crowley pressed a possessive hand against the small of Aziraphale’s back, letting it trail upward underneath the soft fabric of his shirt so that he was deliberately sliding his fingers over the soft skin.

Aziraphale slightly stumbled but otherwise doesn’t give any other reaction.

Crowley smiled, but then he suddenly felt another person's hand slip up Aziraphale’s back.

Barely containing a vicious growl that was ready to rip from his throat at the offender, he yanked the angel away and began to drag him through the crowd back to the edge of the dance floor.

“Crowley?”

He’d be dammed if other person got to feel the angels skin. Now he couldn’t tell if Aziraphale’s reaction had been to him, or the stranger.

His hand had been there first, right? Or had the other hand been on him first and he just hadn’t noticed.

“Why did we leave the dance floor?” 

Crowley didn’t really know how to answer him. How could he explain that the thought of someone else touching his purity almost drove him to bloodlust.

“I thought I saw the boy,” he lied smoothly, “But it wasn’t him. The dance floor was getting too crowed anyway.” He shrugged with indifference hoping he wasn’t being too obvious. 

The angel grew even more distressed. “Oh, this is quite dreadful. I can't imagine what will happen if I cant find him. This is just as bad as when we lost the ani-christ.”

“It’s not quite that bad angel, so what if you miss him? It’s not like the fate of the world is at stake again.”

Aziraphale gave him a small but firm pat on his arm, which was probably meant to be a hit of reprimand. 

“This is serious Crowley! What if I can’t find him? The fate of the world may not be at stake, but his world is. What if the result of me missing this miracle is that of his demise?”

Crowley shook his head agitated. Curse the angel's, kind heart. He didn’t want to search for they boy any longer, but seeing Aziraphale distressed was no good either. He looked back to the dance floor. It was practically packed like a can of sardines out there, they would never find the boy like it was now. Too many people.

At this point, their only option was to scout from above, and he just the place to do it. Taking the angels hand, he began to drag him to the stairs that lined the wall. “Remember when I said you would have to follow everything I said?”

“Yes?”

“Whelp here’s your true test now.” He pulled the angel up into an alcove that overlooked the entirety of the club. There were maybe three or four couples crammed in there but they found a rare empty spot that had miraculously opened up on a couch against a darker part of the room. He pushed the angel down and then slipped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck, sliding into the angel's lap as he did so.

Aziraphale held his arms out awkwardly uncertain what to do. 

“This is a pleasure spot, something used for when people pair off and want a bit of privacy,” Crowley explained.

Aziraphale looked around at the other couples in surprise.

“You should be able to see everything from up here,” Crowley continued.

The angel looked down over the balcony bars. “Oh you’re right, this is rather a great view. I can see the entrance from here. If he comes in, or leaves I’m sure I’ll be able to spot him.”

Crowley leaned down so he could get close to the angel's ear. “The only catch is we have to look intimate to stay up here, otherwise we’ll be kicked out. Understand?”

The angels head jerked back to look at Crowley, he visibly swallowed.

“If this makes you uncomfortable then we can go back to the dance floor, but I doubt you’ll spot the boy from down there. There are too many people.”

Aziraphale hesitantly looked over the balcony again and then back to Crowley. He shook his head.

“Good. Just look for the boy and leave everything else to me. But first, you have to hold me to make it look like you actually want me, and not like I just forced my way on your lap.”

He took the angels arms and wound them around himself. “ _Trusssst_ me.” He hissed in his ear. Suddenly Crowley remembered that he had said those very words to Eve in the garden.

He leaned his head down on Aziraphale shoulder, turning his face so his mouth was touching his neck. He took a deep breath in and flicked his forked tongue acquiring the angel's scent. He smelt of fragrant cologne and leather-bound books. It was so out of place in the sweaty night club, it was almost like a little haven. He brought his hands up to cup Aziraphale’s neck and he began to kiss the angels jaw, dragging his lips from his ear down to his chin and back again in deliberate circles, making sure his mouth brushed against him as much as possible.

The angel's body jumped and Crowley smiled against his skin. So angels _were_ sensitive to physical touching.

After a few minutes of lavishing attention to Aziraphale's neck, he once again whispered in his ear. “Touch me Aziraphale. It will look odd to others if you don’t.” Which he didn’t know if that was true or not, but he wanted to see if the angel would.

He couldn’t see Aziraphale’s reaction to the command but the angel slowly began to move his right hand up and down his outer thigh in a feather-light manner. It was hesitant. Soft. Innocently unsure just like Aziraphale himself, which made the touch all the more electrifying. He had no idea how his friend could feel so good but having Aziraphale touch him this way made him feel almost as intoxicated as his favorite alcohol.

He pulled his hand down from Aziraphale’s neck and slid it into the collar of his shirt just to relish the feeling of skin against skin, of physical touch. This seemed to have the desired effect Crowley was looking for and he could feel the slight goosebumps being raised across the angel's skin causing his hands to involuntarily grip Crowley's thigh a little too forcefully. 

He pulled back, putting on his best coquettish face to look down at Aziraphale through his dark glasses. “Something wrong angel?”  
He asked innocently. 

He felt the angel shudder beneath him and smiled to himself. He loved the way he was being able to manipulate Aziraphale like this. The angel's cheeks were covered in a deep blush, and his pupils were blown wide consuming his pale blue eyes. He shook his head and looked away clearly embarrassed. 

A thrill went through his chest, perhaps they could start something physical, just like the humans did with their bodies. They both seemed to be able to respond to one another…Well sorta. The angel hadn't offered anything back. It was just him drawing responses from his body.

He watched as the angel resumed searching the crowd for the boy in need of a miracle. But that was no good. He wanted to get the angel to react back to him in some capacity. The soft stokes on his thigh were simply divine but he wanted to see how far he could push him.

Leaning back down Crowley placed an open-mouthed kiss on the angel's neck, licking his creamy white skin. In the same move, he slipped his hand from Aziraphle’s shirt and slid it down the angel's chest and then finally into the top of his pants. His fingers breached the hem finding the bare flesh of his hip. He rested his hand there and began moving his thumb in circles, massaging the abundance of plumpness available. He began to suck at the angel's neck in earnest, nipping a bit with his teeth to gather more of the sweet fragrance his skin produced into his mouth. The angels breathing turned impossibly faint beneath him, and his grip tightened on Crowley as his fingers began to tremble.

This was good but Crowley suddenly wondered how Aziraphale would respond to a kiss. A real kiss with lips.

Perhaps that would shake the angel into giving him a proper response back.

Either way, Crowley wanted a kiss.

But he regrettably had to leave his administrations from Aziraphales neck first. With one last suck, he leaned back once again to look at the angel.

He cupped the angel's face and turned Aziraphale towards him. The angel's eyes were riveted on him seemingly unable to look away. A small mouse caught in a snakes stare. And the snake was starving.

Crowley could practically see the line drawn in the sand before him. Did he dare to cross it? If he messed this up, the cost would most like be their friendship.

For one blinding moment, he panicked. There was no way he could do this. This was Aziraphale for Heaven's sake. How could they possibly allow this to happen?

If the snake ate the mouse would all be lost?

Aziraphale looked up at him with his beautiful blue eyes and said in a confused yet questioning tone, "Crowley?"

And that was all it took.

Something inside Crowley snapped. Whatever reservations he had about them being together like this he tossed them out the window. Consequences be damned.

“Shhh,” he whispered as he leaned down to capture the angel's mouth with care. Crowley could not bleein’ believe how wonderful the angel tasted. It put everything he had ever tasted in his long life on this earth to shame. He had wanted to go slow, possibly coax the angel into the kiss delicately like the holy creature deserved, but his body suddenly demanded more. He pressed into the kiss with ravenous hunger, licking his way inside. He would never again be the same. This kiss seared a trail down to the center of his very black soul and burned like holy water in his chest. A fire formed in his belly and he could feel his body tightening uncontrollably. He couldn't help but moan like an animal into Aziraphale's mouth and practically went feral when he found his wonderful tongue. Velvety smooth and burning hot, the angel's mouth was now completely open to him, ready for consumption. Crowley reached up and twisted his hand into the back of the angels light curls, pushing them closer together.

The angel didn’t push him away, which was something that hadn’t registered in his brain at first. Instead, the angel was kissing him back with just as much heat. This was perfect. Everything was perfect. And the angel beneath him was beyond perfect.

Crowley's stomach tightened and he felt his lower regions become inflamed. He began to squirm on the angel desperate for something, anything to cool the pain that was beginning to build within him. He felt his lungs begin to burn from lack of air and he broke them apart with his teeth dragging out the bottom of Aziraphale's lip.

They both panted into each other, their physical forms heaving for breath.

Aziraphale flicked his gaze up to meet the demons reflective glasses. A look of awe was in his eyes like he had no idea at what had just happened.

They studied each other from less than an inch away, their eyes intense and searching each other. Had he done it? Had he actually temped an angel?

Crowley couldn't help himself this time. He reached down and placed his hand between Aziraphales legs, stroking his inner thighs. He was far too excited and turned on for his own good. He wanted to continue to touch the angel. Nothing mattered except for the principality beneath him and there was a very real possibility that he might try and claim Aziraphale right there in front of everyone.

Before he could recapture his lips, Aziraphale’s eyes glanced sideways “Crowley! Look there he is!”

The cry from Aziraphale jolted Crowley out of his deviant thoughts. 

The angel lept up, almost sending Crowley flying to the ground, and he watched as Aziraphale dashed towards the stairs leading to the exit of the club. Crowley stared at his back disbelievingly for a moment before he scrambled after him. 

He pushed through the crowd but the angel had disappeared out the door. The wave of bodies was hard to fight against but before he made it to the exit there was a loud boom and the building around them shook. Breaking free from the now shocked crowed that was screaming, he made his way out the door of the club. Glancing around for his angel his eyes stopped on a smashed car that had driven off the street and right into the side of the building. A young man was lying on top of the hood.

He ran to get closer but he stopped when he saw Aziraphale standing by the curb. Changing directions he headed towards Aziraphale.

“That him?” he asked as he got closer. 

Aziraphale nodded. 

The young man sat up and shook glass from his hair, a streak of blood dripped down his face but otherwise he was uninjured. People began to swarm around him and others were on the phone with the police.

“I was almost too late.”

Crowley cringed. That would have been his fault. “Well, you weren’t.”

They watched the scene in silence for a while until the ambulance and fire came.

“Ride home?” Crowley asked.

“Yes thank you.” The angel answered quietly.

They were both silent on the way back to the bookshop and Aziraphale said nothing as Crowley ran every red light along the way. He glanced over to the angel in his passenger seat, his face showing he was deep in thought. It drove Crowley mad not knowing what the angel was thinking. Was he angry at the demon? He had almost cost Aziraphale his miracle.

As they pulled up to the shop Crowley took the keys from the ignition and without a word, they both climbed from the car.

Crowley joined Aziraphale on the other side of his car, surprised the angel hadn’t moved towards his door.

“Look Aziraphale, I wanted to apologize.”

Aziraphale innocently blinked at him. “Whatever for my dear boy?”

“For almost screwing up your miracle. I knew how important it was to you.”

Aziraphale cocked his head to the side in true confusion. ‘It wasn’t your fault. I was the one who allowed my self to be distracted, you were just helping me.”

Crowley’s brows furrowed, now it was his turn to be confused. Did he not blame him? Then why had he been so quiet in the car?

Wait a minute. Had he just admitted to being distracted?

Aziraphale’s face suddenly changed and it lit up as he smiled at Crowley with one of those perfect, divine smiles that sliced through him like a flaming sword. “If anything, I really should be thanking you. If we hadn’t been up on that balcony I would have never spotted the boy leaving the club. It was kind of you to help me.”

“Oh shut it,” Crowley grumbled the words, though there was no malice behind them. He was utterly bewildered by the angels thought process.

“I mean it. Thank you, my dear.” Aziraphale turned to him and leaned up on his toes, hesitating for a fraction of a second, before planting a soft kiss on the demons cheek.

Crowley stiffened, he had to, lest he melt all over the sidewalk like butter.

Somewhere in his chest, a sort of warm, cozy sensation was growing, fluttering around in his ribs. He had spent all night basically groping the innocent angel and yet here he was, flustered from a simple kiss on the cheek. Some demon of temptation he was.

“I just want you to know, that I welcome your companionship,” Aziraphale said looking honestly up into his eyes.

Crowley’s brain short-circuited and he stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. “W-what…?” It was like he had been struck dumb. 

Aziraphale studied his bewildered expression and his face fell “Ah. I see you were just acting. I just thought... in the club...” His face fell even further. “But that's quite alright my dear, it was…my mistake I just hope you can forgive my assumptions.”

Crowley couldn’t get any words out of his mouth. They all seemed to be stuck in his throat. 

His face must have unnerved Aziraphale because he began to stammer, “W-Well you see when you kissed me…I well…Oh dear. You must forgive me. I thought it meant something else.” The angel quickly turned away embarrassed and began to walk towards his home.

Crowley's arm whipped out and grabbed the angel roughly by the bicep. He slammed the angel back against his Bentley and stepped in front of him to block any point of escape.

“Did you mean it?" He asked frantically, his mouth finally deciding to work. “Did you mean what you said? Do you really welcome my companionship? A physical one?”

Aziraphale blinked rapidly “Of course.” he said Earnestly. 

Crowley reached up and removed his glasses, throwing them to the ground. He would not have anything in the way when he took Aziraphles mouth.

His slitted eyes searched Aziraphles face. He was so achingly precious to him the angel made it hard to breathe. His shoved Aziraphale harder into the Bently and claimed his mouth in a whimper. He was so desperate to be joined with the angel his body was practically crying at any point of contact. He could weep from the angels taste alone. Aziraphale kissed him back with favor and they desperately clung to each other on the London street.

Crowley's clever hands slid down the angel's body, grabbing Aziraphles desire through casual clothing. Aziraphale's mouth broke away and he gasped ruggedly dragging in deep breaths of air. Crowley would let him breathe, but was unwilling to have his mouth taken from the angel's body completely. He dragged his tongue down Aziraphale's neck and nipped and licked at the base of his shirt collar.

Aziraphles chest heaved under him and he could feel the angels heart fluttering wildly in his chest. He wasn't much better off.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale suddenly cried on a gasp as his fingers dug into the demons jacket. He felt the pressure building too and all too soon he was seeing stars explode behind his eyes. They were beautiful. They reminded him of when God had first created the galaxies. Sparkling dust and fire danced about the two of them crashing with explosions of red and gold. Their visions went white and they were in complete euphoria.

It seemed to last forever until in slow increments, their vision returned. Aziraphale was lightly panting beneath him and Crowley was certain that if he moved the angel would have slid down his Bentley and onto the street. 

Crowley was suddenly feeling extremely overprotective of the exhausted angel underneath him and he kissed the angels brow in a show of some sort of contrition for his wild behavior. He then kissed the tip of his nose and then his lips, which the angel weakly tried to respond to with the press of his own.

He couldn't believe what they had just done. And in the street no less. His angel certainly deserved better than to be ravaged in the dark like some animal. They hadn't even made it into his bookshop.

As if Aziraphale could read his thoughts, he brought a shaky hand up to Crowley's face. "It was perfect my dear, you're perfect," he said smiling with his eyes crinkling at the sides.

Crowley inclined his head to rest his forehead against Aziraphale’s, a dazed smile gracing his own lips. 

“Crowley We’re...we’re sticking together, right? Permanently?” The angel said in a bit of apprehension.

He could feel his face twist into a wicked smile. "Try and tear me from you angel."


	2. Look at how you’ve tempted me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So someone said they would read a second part to my fic and I was so touched, I wrote one.  
> You must be warned. Here be lovemaking.

The room was cozy with thick curtains drawn over the large window that looked out onto the street from above Aziraphale's book store. The only light in the room illuminated from the dim lamps on the nightstands stationed on both sides of the mattress, which was dressed in honey-colored sheets and layered with extravagant pillows both cream and gold.

Crowley and Aziralphe sat at the end of the bed in silence, their combined weight causing the mattress to dip them together.

Aziraphale had brought him up there to tidy up after what had happened between them in the street but they had both sorta shyly sat down without a word.

Crowley wanted to do it again. He wanted to ravage the angel now that he had gotten a small taste. He wanted to shred the angel bare with his teeth, just so he could feel the incredibly creamy soft skin press into his.

But now that they were up in Aziraphle’s room he was somehow at a loss for what to do next. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted it so badly his skin felt tight, but something about this atmosphere held him at bay.

Before they had both been caught up in the throes of passion but now, whatever they did next would be deliberate.

Crowley looked around the room, “You know I don’t think I’ve ever been up here.” He commented breaking the silence.

Aziraphale slightly jumped at the sound of his voice, as if he had been pulled from the very same thoughts Crowley had just been entertaining. 

“Oh yes, well I don’t come up here very often. I don’t sleep much, there’s normally so much to be done, both day and night. Righteousness is always vigilant.” He chuckled without humor. He looked down at the sheets. “I do use it though, sometimes. I find that if I draw the curtains like they are now, it's like I’m completely alone. Hidden from the world in my own little haven.”

Crowley leaned back and looked the angel up and down, his eyebrows raising. “But Aziraphale you love the world, why hide from it?”

The angel smiled as he looked toward the ceiling avoiding his gaze. “I do. Very much so, but there have been times that it could be…” He gave a quick glance to Crowley and then looked away again. ”overwhelming.” 

Crowley smiled. He knew exactly what he meant.

“You overwhelm me too.”

The angel's cheeks brightened to a pink hue.

Crowley leaned in the angels neck, some of the courage returning from earlier that evening. “I want you Aziraphale,” he whispered against his ear. “I think I have wanted you for decades but it wasn’t until tonight that my body now craves you.”

Aziraphale turned to look at him their noses touching. “I feel the same.” He whispered back. There was a quiver in his voice that seemed to broadcast his nervousness.

Crowley lifted his hands up to capture the angels face and began to kiss him thoroughly just like he had done in the club until they were both panting, and Aziraphale had to pull away slightly for breath. His pale curls were feathered out round his head in all directions and his normally crystal blue eyes were now so dilated they looked like black pools of desire, shining in the lamplight of the room. His lips were slightly parted, and his tongue darted out to lick his swollen parts from the kiss they had just shared.

“I’m just honored you would share your body with me.” He suddenly said. “I truly am.”

Crowley didn’t know what to make of this comment, after all, he had been the tempter all night. In all honesty, Aziraphale should actually hate him a little. What they were doing probably wasn’t sanctioned in any circles up in heaven.

“You know Crowley I’ve always found you to be very…charming.” He confessed sheepishly. He ducked his head down. “I never thought you would want to put a physical dynamic in play to our relationship. Physicality is usually reserved for humans so they can procreate, so I had my doubts at first. But what you did at the club made me feel…Well…I’m uncertain how to put it…” His lips tilted in a pout and his brows drew together. he sat like that for a few moments until he suddenly smacked his fist down in his hand as if he had just found the words.  
“It made me feel loved. Like you actually wanted me. I would have never thought so, at least not in this way. You are just so lovely I fear I’m drawn to you like a helpless moth to a light.”

Now Crowley really was shocked. He didn’t deserve to be hearing these things, no matter how much they made his heart squeeze. He wasn’t lovely. That was term reserved for angels like the one sitting next to him. He was only a demon after all and Aziraphale needed to know that.

“My light went out long ago angel.” He breathed into the space between them.

Aziraphale pulled back looking somewhat angry. “Crowley is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know angel.” He answered quietly. The room fell still and Crowley ran a hand through his hair uneasily, the tense silence weighing heavily on them.

Aziraphale suddenly cupped his face with care, dragging his thumb along his sharp cheekbone. “Your light never went out my dear, I know because I’ve always seen it. It’s like a spark inside of you, like a flash of flint being struck in the night or lighting appearing briefly behind dark clouds. You may not think it’s there but over the years I’ve seen it roar to life before my very eyes, fully ignited and brilliantly bright, scorching everything around you, hot as a thousand burning suns. It’s enigmatic.”

He slowly smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. His sweet lips flipped upwards and he was starring at Crowley as if he was truly taken. He fluttered his pale lashes a few times looking like he was trying to focus his thoughts, his eyes wandered down to Crowley’s mouth.

“Your light. It’s quite attractive because I know it’s truly you. Your very soul. I often find myself wishing to be near such a flame. It’s warmer than any light I’ve ever known.”

Crowley swallowed and his throat hurt from holding back tears. No one had ever said such precious things to him before. He felt exposed and raw, and it had only taken a few words from his best friend.

“Angel” he choked out, but he was stopped by the press of Aziraphale’s lips against him.

His kiss was light but unmistakably meant for comfort. “I care for you dear boy,” he muttered between his lips, “so much it hurts.”

Crowley leaned into the warm touch, his body quite honestly begging for more. More warmth, more comfort, more…more Aziraphale.

“Crowley you don’t give yourself enough credit. Back at the club, I was mesmerized by your touch, and even now the gentleness of your hands, the warmth of your breath, it’s the most lovely temptation I’ve ever had.”

Crowley rested his forehead against Aziraphale’s. What had he done? He had finally temped the angel into being physical but now he had a deeper fear building within himself. Aziraphale was too perfect. he didn’t deserve the praise he was receiving. He wanted to be with the angel more than anything, but If they got closer would the angel be disappointed at what a true bastard he really was? Surely he knew, they had known each other for 6000 years. But It was something he hadn’t considered until that very moment. His thoughts were beginning to spiral and he sensed the angel could tell where his mental state was going. He began to hear chanting in the back of his mind. _You’re not worthy, You’re not worthy, You’re not worthy,_ it sounded like the roar of heaven when he had been cast out for asking a few questions.

“Oh Crowley. Could I...could I possibly show you?” He asked nervously.

Crowley titled his head. “Show me? Show me what?”

“Allow me to show you just how precious you are to me.”

Crowley didn’t mean to snort, he really didn’t, but did the angel even know what he was asking for? 

He opened his mouth to make a snide remark but Aziraphale stopped him with a “Please?”

He felt a palm creep over his thigh, and he looked down at it in surprise.

Against his better judgment, he found himself nodding in acquiescence. He could never deny the angel anything.

The smile the angel gave him in return was soft and tender, almost as if Crowley has just handed him the world on a silver platter. It made Crowley’s heartache for the sweetness of it.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers a Crowley was suddenly bare, without a wisp of clothing to be seen. He wasn’t embarrassed though, nakedness was never wrong. That was just something the Apple had taught humanity. 

His yellow eyes flicked to Aziraphale, also seeing that he too was bare. Goodbye fashionable clothes, he knew Aziraphale would never be seen in them again. It’d be tartan and oatmeal-colored dressings tomorrow. but that was alright. What had his attention now was the abundance of white flesh that glowed slightly before him. Crowley’s mouth began to water. All of that sweet angel was his to have no one else would ever know the taste of him. He felt that feral part of his rise up demanding that he attack the angel and ravage him until he was crying out in otherworldly pleasure.

Forgetting the promise he had just made to the angel he was just about to do so when he was lulled into submission by Aziraphale’s hands on his shoulders, carefully pushing him down onto the covers. He looked up at the angel who had laid down with him but was still slightly propped up on his elbows so that he could hover above him. He leaned in and pressed an achingly sweet kiss to his temple, breathing in as if to saver his scent. Crowley’s eyes slipped closed and he could feel his body relax further. Laying languid for the angel he felt the press of Aziraphale’s fingers as they spread out over the skin of his chest. His touch was hesitant, like a deer slowly approaching something new and unfamiliar, but his fingers bravely trailed on sensuously across his chest stopping only slightly to rest above his heartbeat. The angel began to move his thumb stroking the slight red chest hair that graced his sternum. Crowley was sure Aziraphale didn’t know how erotic that was. He probably just wanted to touch him, to feel the texture of the skin and hair against his sensitive fingers, but to Crowley it was like a claiming, and he let his head, with his eyes still closed, drop back in surrender .

He felt Aziraphale move in and kiss the bottom of his jaw near his ear and then move across his cheek until he found Crowley’s lips. It was something he had done in the club while sitting on his lap. The angel sure was a fast learner.

Their tongues met each other and slid in a motion that caused the demon's stomach to curl in excitement.

Aziraphale’s hand ghosted downward and finding the crook of his thigh and gripped it in firm possession pulling him closer to his side. This was different from the other touches he had received and it provoked Crowley to open his eyes.

Aziraphale broke off the kiss, and Crowley watched in awe as the angel's eyes roamed downward raking over his form. His body responded to the gaze like he was being lit aflame.

“Beautiful,” Aziraphale whispers. Well, tries to whisper. The word is more of a shaping of his lips, rather than a true utterance. He leaned down and began giving Crowley kisses that trailed across his skin. They were light, not as hungry as the grip on his thigh, reminding him of butterflies, as they landed on him in reverence. 

He could feel his pupils dilating, spreading from slits to round discs. 

“You’re exquisite.” His voice reminded him of smooth whiskey, and it had somehow lost all nervousness. He looked up to find Crowley watching him and he demurely smiled as if he were a shy dame in a ballroom rather than a man wrapped around his body.

Crowley felt himself melt under that adoring gaze and felt his lips part with a sigh when Aziraphale resumed his kisses which were suddenly heading downwards towards his stomach. 

Crowley bowed his back upwards loving the attention being shown to his skin.

“You’re absolutely stunning” Aziraphale whispered against his ribs.

Receiving compliments, about his body and self was not something that he used to and for a moment he tensed, only for his muscles to be lulled back into relaxation by the warm attentions trailing across his skin. Crowley couldn't help but be entirely focused on the feeling of Aziraphale’s perfect kisses being pressed into him.

“I want to ring rapture from your lips.” He said determinedly into his navel.

Crowley’s brows lowered in confusion and it wasn’t until Aziraphale dropped to his knees between his legs that he finally understood what he meant. He jumped up into a sitting position backing Aziraphale up. “No. Angel no.”

Aziraphale looked up at him surprised. “But why not?”

“It’s too dirty for you angel. You don’t need to do that.” He was too innocent, too pure. Didn’t he understand that? He was the one who needed to be worshipped. Lavished with attention like he so deserved. Let Crowley’s own filthy mouth take him in. Not the other way around. He needed to remain untainted.

Aziraphale leaned in and kissed his inner thigh, his breath sending shivers down his legs. His lips were soft plush on the demon’s skin. “But I want too,” he said with complete sincerity. His tone combined with the intensity of his gaze sent flames of desire licking through Crowley’s veins.

“Aziraphale-” the demon breathed out in disbelief. He couldn’t believe the amount of affection pouring out from Aziraphale’s eyes. 

“I’ll be careful if that's what you’re worried about.” The angel explained as he attentively reached out and took him in hand.

“Aziraphale wait, consider what you’re doing-“ he started, but immediately felt the words die on his lips. Big, beautiful eyes blinked up at him in a pleading manner.

“I know what I’m doing. I’m loving you.” He murmured with conviction as if the was the most simple thing in the world.

The angel leaned into him, taking him in mouth, and It knocked the wind from his lungs. 

He wasn’t skilled, but then again neither was Crowley. He had seen humans perform the act on several different occasions, but this was the first time either of them put their bodies into practice. It didn’t seem to matter anyhow. What he was doing was perfect.

It was all too much; too much sensation and too much pleasure. It was slow and beautiful, and with Aziraphale bent forward like that in front of him, he could have been mistaken as a patron in prayer. He touched him in reverence whispering words of endearments between torturous breaks when he gave attention to other parts of him. He was the worshipper and Crowley’s body an alter. It could almost be interpreted as sacrilegious. An angel worshiping a demon, but somehow it wasn’t. It was just Aziraphale loving him.

“Demon of my heart, look at how you’ve tempted me.” He reprimanded without heat. “I may not have voiced it, but you’ve been my best friend too. You have always been there for me, even when I thought you weren’t, you were.” 

He began to once again show Crowley how he was to be worshipped. Old Words of praise, that he hadn’t heard in many millennia began to tumble forth from Aziraphale’s mouth. He had slipped back into the ancient tongue of all languages before English was ever invented. It was a sacred language and Crowley had almost forgotten its existence. It churned something inside him and he felt his soul grow, rising to the surface of his skin to be closer to the archaic praise.

The sensations stopped and Aziraphale reached his hand upward to cup his face. “Don’t cry, Crowley. You deserve this. You deserve love. _You’re worthy._ And I do so care for you in all my capacity.”

“Angel-“ He choked. He was crying. He hadn’t meant to. He didn’t know whether or not to cry out with a plea for their continuance or demand the angel to stop.

Aziraphale’s resumed touching him everywhere and his warm mouth was once again encasing him. His light fingers were sending cascades of pleasure rippling through his body that was too overwhelming. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but fight to fill his lungs with air, his hands balling themselves into fists on the sheets. He would not be an animal and grab onto the angles curls.

His front teeth bit down on his swollen bottom lip and his knuckles tightened white. He felt like his very blood was on fire and he snarled into the air.

If this had been the boiling flames ready to greet him when he fell, he would have gladly jumped headfirst into the all-consuming heat.

He was a writhing, sobbing, sweaty mess. Everything was coalescing to that one pure sweet point of almost-pain.

Aziraphale’s name was a beautiful litany on his lips. He was teetering on the edge of glorious oblivion, suspended in the moment.

His body abruptly jerked upward in a taut bow like fashion as the electric release went shooting up his spine.

He cried out his rapture and the building slightly shook, causing the low lamps in the room to flicker.

Just like before stars exploded behind his eyes, creating galaxies to form and crash into one another. Celestial pieces fell all around them, shooting off twinkling showers of sparks in joy.

Unbidden his black wings sprung forth from his back knocking things over off the end tables near the bed.

He was held suspended in that position as his muscles buckled down on his bones trying to hold onto the pleasure that was coursing through him.

His stomach spasmed uncontrollably and his head was flung back, his mouth open in a silent continued cry of ecstasy. He could feel his tendons standing out on his neck so tight it was a wonder they didn’t snap.

Finally, when his body was unable to hold him up for much longer his lungs expanded and he dragged in a strangled gasp into his throat. He collapsed on the bed greedily gulping in air. His chest heaving like he had been drowning. He blinked a few times unable to make sense of the room around him, white spots dancing in his eyes.

“Crowley! Crowley! Are you alright! Did I hurt you in any way?!” The Angel looked beyond panicked and he shook his hands out in distress twittering about.

Still panting Crowley turned his head to find the source of his undoing. His eyelids were now heavy, but he gave Aziraphale an incredulous look. How could the angel think he’d hurt him? That was the most pleasure he had ever experienced in... well ever.

He weakly shook his head. “No angel.” He rasped his voice undeniably raw. “Just the opposite in fact.” His eyes fluttered and his slitted pupils rolled back in his head. His body hummed in contentment and he felt as good as a snake basking in the sun. He didn’t want to move for at least the next thousand years.

It was perfect. Well, almost...something was missing. He opened his eyes to find the angel staring at him, uncertain of what to do with himself.

He lifted his heavy arms in an invitation. “Come here ‘Zira .” He slurred.

He looked a little shocked but obediently, if not hesitantly laid himself down onto Crowley’s chest, snuggling into his arms and resting his head on top of the demon's heart.

Crowley was positive that he'd never be able to be touched by Aziraphale without thinking of this night ever again. There was no way that the simple brush of his hand on his arm or a guided press to his back wouldn't give him the feeling of complete and utter adoration now embedded deeply into his skin.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

They laid like that for a long while and Crowley didn’t realize he was cold until his flesh began rising goosebumps. Without a word, white feathers appeared covering his body. He shuffled in closer to feel the heat. 

He was almost asleep when his eyes abruptly popped open.

 _“Angel we didn’t do you!”_ He shouted in realization.

Aziraphale just glanced up at him in a relaxed manner. “That's alright my dear. I'm quite content.” He snuggled in closer, nesting on the demon's chest.

_"But-"_

Aziraphale took one of his hands and pressed a soft kiss to the heel. “We have all the time in the world to learn new things about each other. We’ve both waited years, and I can wait a little bit more.”

The gesture was so tender that Crowley had to once again swallow the lump in his throat. Indeed their escapade had left him feeling boneless, and he wasn’t sure if he could show Aziraphale the good lovin’ that he needed. It would be better to wait in the long run. Rest assured once it was his turn, the angel would be lost to so much pleasure he wouldn’t even remember the name of his bookshop.

“You are the _perfect_ angel.” He murmured into the curls on his chest.

They both stayed like that, content in each other's arms.  



	3. You’re welcome to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but seriously all the comments I have been receiving have been so kind and wonderful I could float to the ceiling with each one. Two more people asked I continue and I was so touched, so of course, I did so right away. If anyone is interested in a longer story please let me know I could always expand the story if there's a demand.

Crowley awoke in degrees. He never really slept so he was a bit disoriented. 

The bed beneath him was soft and his body felt like it was swimming in a sea of satin. 

He debated closing his eyes again when he spotted a little Porcelain figurine of an ugly cherub angel sitting on the end table. He pulled his head back in confusion. Wait where was he?

Images of last night flashed through his mind and he stupidly smiled. Oh yeah, that’s right.

Where was his angel?

He sat up and removed the covers from his body he had been so obviously tucked into with care. He hated how much that touched him.

He was still naked but at some point, during the night he seemed to have tucked away his wings.

He began to search for his clothes but couldn’t spot them anywhere. Aziraphale in his haste last night must have had accidentally sent them back to his home.

No matter, he simply summoned a new outfit.

Once dressed Crowley made his way downstairs which looked completely different in the daylight. He had only been privy to certain parts of the angels home but never the bedroom. He walked to the back area which he knew had a kitchen nook where he knew Aziraphale liked to eat his breakfast.

Walking in he saw the angel sitting at the table reading the morning paper with his glasses on and a jam muffin raised to his lips.

He grinned at the domesticity of it all.

“Morning angel.” He sat down at the small breakfast table which he now realized was full of food.

Aziraphale looked up him and beamed. 

The whole room brightened.

“Oh Crowley! Yes, good morning to you as well. I have some food here if you are hungry, and some tea on the stove if you wish.”

Crowley looked at the food before him and raised a brow. He really only ever ate to indulge Aziraphale, but other than that he didn’t do it much and often forgot about the concept altogether.

He grunted and grabbed some very large waffles and put them on a blank plate.

The empty cup to his right miraculously filled with black coffee. He wasn’t much for tea.

Aziraphale had gone back to reading the paper.

“Anything interesting?” He asked nodding at the paper.

Aziraphale gave him a sort of knowing look over his round glasses.

“Sometimes when I perform a public miracle it ends up in the paper,” he began still staring at Crowley, “yet there seem to be quite a few typos this morning.”

Crowley suddenly looked away trying to act as innocently as possible. He had forgotten about the newspapers he had tampered with the day before yesterday. He guessed his trouble making finally worked.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this would you?”

Crowley couldn’t hide his wicked smile that bloomed across his face. “Well, I may have sent a virus to the publisher's computer.” He stipulated flippantly. “I just changed one little word in the computers autocorrect.”

“Yes but that word was ‘public’ into “nitwits.”

Crowley laughed “Yeah it was, let’s hear it then.”

Aziraphale tried to give him a withering look, but there was no real heat behind it. He straightened himself in his chair and flicked the paper in a proper manner.

“Police officers responded about 8:30 p.m. to a club on 29th Haymarket when a white Ford Focus sent the nearby nitwits into chaos. The car jumped the curb into the side of a building and landed about 3 feet into the structure. The nitwits both in and out of the building were shocked to discover a pedestrian on the hood of the car who got up and walked away.

Both the driver of the vehicle and the victim were taken to the hospital with non-life-threatening injuries, and the nitwits who witnessed the crash are calling it a miracle.”

Aziraphale looked at the paper in distaste and Crowley laughed at the angel's dower expression.

“Come on angel, that’s funny. Imagine all of the editors running around scrambling to find the source of the problem. They never will, the virus is disguised as spam. Oh, I love spam mail, probably one of my better evils. Besides the common public is a bunch of nitwits, I'm just telling the truth. I thought you of all people would like that.” he joked.

Crowley saw it. For a fraction of a second, a small smile lifted at the tips of the angel's mouth, before it was replaced by a fake disapproving frown. He thought the tempering was funny too but he would never say so out loud.

“Yes well, I hope they’ll get everything sorted. The entire paper is printed this way. Look at this column here. ‘Nitwits suggestions on taxation.’”

Aziraphale sighed and folded up the paper, placing it on the table. He then took off his glasses, which were completely for show, and picked up his tea.

Crowley smiled to himself and stabbed his waffle. “So what’s on the agenda today?” Do you have a lot to do? Or can we have another round?”

The angel started in surprise and then blushed a deep red, spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. “Crowley is that any kind of talk for the breakfast table?”

“I was just curious, was all.” He drawled. “ “Never really eat breakfast myself, but I find myself rather craving something this morning.”

Aziraphale glanced in his direction and Crowley winked a slitted eye as he chewed.

The angels already deep blush took on a faint heavenly glow.

He looked as edible as the golden waffles in front of him.

“I have a few miracles to perform in the outer isles today. So I won’t be able to open my shop.” He didn’t even sound like he was inconvenienced. “Some factory fire is supposed to happen.” He continued, “I’ve been instructed to save 27 of the men, but really, who would bat an eye at all 30 being saved.” He sniffed a bit self righteously.

Crowley couldn’t help but lean on his arm and scrunch his nose at the angel. “Feeling disobedient today, are we? Saving all 30 men, my, my what would heaven say?”

Aziraphale gave him a look. “Heaven really hasn’t said much. I fear our little swap has made them quite nervous around me. I haven’t been reprimanded for much, but Gabriel still checks my receipts more often than I’d like. They’ve been quiet, but they have been just sending me lists and ignore me as they did before.”

Aziraphale seemed to stare straight ahead becoming lost in thought and not looking at anything for a few moments. He then shook his head, seemingly coming back to himself.

“What about you old boy? Have any temptations today?”

Crowley pulled out his phone which had been in the pocket of the clothes he had summoned and checked his email.  
There was only one waiting for him and it was basically the same one he received every day. 

Cause trouble. Tempt souls. Report back.

He put his phone back in his pocket. “I’ve got a few things.” He said dismissively.

“Oh. Alright.” The angel said cheerfully, “If you’d like, we can meet back here for dinner. Unless you’d rather eat out.”

Crowley shook his head disinterested in food. The only thing he was looking forward to was consuming the angel.

“Dinner here it is.” Aziraphale declared slightly slapping the table in finality.

“I must be on my way, my dear.” He said getting up. “Help yourself to anything in my kitchen, but leave those bottles of Bardot in the cabinet alone.”

He walked past Crowley and the demon reached out and snagged the angel's arm. “Aziraphale, don't forget, it’s your turn tonight.” His voice dipped lower as he reminded him.

Aziraphale began to glow once more and he said nothing, looking away bashfully.

“I didn’t forget.” He responded quietly. So quiet intact that Crowley didn’t know if Aziraphale realized he had spoken aloud.

He then disappeared from the kitchen and Crowley was left munching on waffles.

Later that day Crowley found himself in a suit and tie, with his glasses back on, skipping across a street and into a prestigious law firm in central London. True he had been to a few law firms yesterday but he loved them. 

Temptations everywhere. Really he was like a kid in a candy store. So many sins, so little time.

He walked in like he belonged and what better way to blend in with a bunch of pompous lawyers then strut across the marble tile like a cock in a henhouse.

It almost always worked.

“Excuse me!”

Almost.

He turned to find a secretary in a tight black dress waving him down from a work station. 

“You can’t just go in there, it’s by appointment only.”

“I have an appointment,” he lied smoothly, “check and see.”

The woman looked at him skeptically “I’m sorry but I do the bookings myself, there are no appointments for this hour.”

“Well, that’s rather interesting because I do have one.” He insisted nodding towards the computer.

She sat down and typed in a few things. He watched as her eyebrows shot up into her hairline as his name miraculously appeared on the screen. “ I’m sure I didn’t book anything,” she muttered to herself. She looked up at him and gave a fake smile. “My apologies Mr. Anthony, you can head on back.”

And he did. Not many people were in the office and so he leisurely went from room to room transferring files and adding false emails or offered bribes to each computer.

He planted temptation after temptation, humming different Queen songs as he went along.

He wouldn’t mess up any real case files because some times the victims were in need of true help. No, the temptations were for the lawyers themselves, and it was entirely up to them to act on them. 

It had taken him a bit longer than he thought but he had finally gotten to every room.

He was on his way down the hall to head out when he heard grunting coming from a side office a few feet away from him.

He unmistakably knew what it was and he stopped in his tracks.

Curious, he turned towards the sound and found the room with the door slightly ajar.  
He had just been in this room a few minutes ago, and had unplugged the coffee maker in the corner and knocked over a few family photos on the desk since he couldn’t find a computer of some sort. Now looking in he found the lobby secretary and who he assumed to be the lawyer of said family wrapped up in each other over the desk.

Normally when Crowley came across such things he would laugh or raise a brow at the antics of humans, watching for a few seconds and then be on his way. Seeing humans go at it was nothing new, but this time he stopped and stared. 

He couldn’t help but have a new perspective after last night, now that he had delved into physically at least a little bit.

Crowley cocked his head to the side and watched confused. It wasn’t beautiful in any shape of the word. In fact, it made him feel like he was indifferent to what was happening right before him in this very public office. He might as well been watching two ducks fight over a piece of bread at the park. He had no reaction.

Before, when he had temped others into lust it wasn’t that hard at all. Humans had that biological need to mate with one another and it seemed to be ever-present beneath their surface. Crowley hadn’t really understood it, but the fallouts of the act always made great entertainment. Songs, books, movies, and the occasional surprise child. All results of a simple act.  
Shakespeare came to mind. He often wrote about sexual attraction and it’s pitfalls in his plays but Crowley never really took the time to care about such things. He liked Shakespeare's comedies, and even when sex was involved it was always to poke fun of those who craved it.

He wasn’t laughing anymore.

Physicality with his own body over the years had yielded no results...that was until he felt Aziraphale pressing against him at the club. It was as if something had clicked into place for him and he now craved a new level of intimacy with his best friend.

He felt himself smirk. 

If anyone caught him right now staring in on the two people, who were grunting like wildebeests, and smiling they would think him a peeping tom. But in reality, he was only thinking of Aziraphale. 

He knew the angel had slowly come to value their interactions over time, eventually leading to their close friendship. But after last night...

He shivered deliciously at the memory.

He knew now as sure as anything that the angel truly loved him.

He deserved so much more than what the demon could give him but he tried not to dwell on that thought.

The woman in the office began to screech like an injured hawk and Crowley jumped in surprise. He winced. The noises she was producing sounded terrible and he cringed as he turned away and practically ran to the lobby.

He should be applauding the act of infidelity, it was evil after all, yet he snapped his fingers and the businessman’s cellphone miraculously pocket dialed his wife. And wouldn’t you know, she just happened to pick up.

What those two had been doing wasn’t love. They were fulfilling a selfish need. Again something he should be applauding, yet...

He felt irritated.

Getting in his Bently, which was illegally parked in a handicap, he sped off down the highway, heading towards Aziraphale’s shop. He suddenly had a great need to see his angel.

Evening had fallen and he found Aziraphale tutting about in his backroom next to his desk where they normally had their drinking sessions.

He was humming something Crowley had never heard before but he was quickly taken in by the scene. Aziraphale was so lovely and he needed to be shown.

He snapped his fingers and the record player in the corner lowered it’s needle and began to play. Before Aziraphale could turn and investigate he had swept the angel upon his arms.

“Crowley! Oh, you did frighten me, dear.”

“Hmm.” Crowley hummed. He took the angels hand and began to make them sway in place.

Aziraphale smiled at him. “Had a good day did we?”

Crowley shook his head noncommittally. “Was alright.” He shrugged, “Nothing to report, how did your miracles go?”

“Nothing to report as well. All went fine. Although I do believe I angered a sheep on one of the isles., through no fault of my own I assure you.”

Crowley grinned. “Of course you did.”

He slowly turned Aziraphale in a circle and brought him back into his arms. The record player played softly in the background as they moved together.

“I quite like this type of dancing, the angel commented after a few moments. “It’s better than that rubbing business we did at the club.”

Crowley bottom lip jutted out in pretend empathy. “Oh I don’t know, it certainly gave me an advantage.”

Crowley’s grip tightened and as a result, they were pressed hip to hip.

He rubbed himself a bit and Aziraphale gasped.

He leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I want you _Asssziraphale._ “ he hissed. “I want you _sssso_ bad. Let me take you.”

“You’re welcome to me.” The angel said turning to press a delicate kiss to his cheek.

They danced for a bit longer before Crowley leaned his forehead against the angels.

“Remember last night when you said you were honored that I would share my body with you?”

Aziraphale nodded.

“Well, I’m the one I think, who should be honored. The things you said... the things you did... I’ve never felt so cherished.”

The angel opened his mouth to say something but Crowley cut him off.

“I just wanted you to know, that if anyone deserves to be loved and cherished beyond all, between the two of us it’s you.”

Aziraphale frowned.

“How about instead of arguing about who deserves more love and cherishment, we just do so equally?” He replied reasonably.

“Not possible angel. I love you more.”

Aziraphale huffed and rolled his eyes, “My dear boy I don’t see how that’s possible.” He reached up and removed his dark glasses and placed them inside his front pocket.

He then stared up into Crowley’s eyes with such adoration, you would have thought he hung the moon.

“Shut up and kiss me,” Crowley demanded, but it was actually him who leaned down and captured the angel's lips. They were just as sweet as he remembered. Soft, warm, sweet Aziraphale.

The kiss started out sweet and tender, he could live on it for the rest of his immortal life, but then turned hungry, leaving the angel breathless. The kiss promised the angel things to come and Crowley could tell he was beginning to ache with a need akin to his own as his arms slid around his neck and clung tightly. 

He definitely moaned in disappointment as Crowley reluctantly broke the kiss.

“Angel, upstairs.” Was all he could get out. 

He would take the angel in a proper bed, not in the back of his shop.

"But what about dinner?" he fretted. 

Crowley growled ignoring him. He didn't want food he wanted the principality. 

Taking the angels hand he led them both upstairs into the room they had used before. As soon as they crossed the entryway he turned and put his arms around Aziraphale's middle unwilling to be separated for a moment longer. The angel was already standing up on tiptoe to kiss the demon with all the skill he possessed. 

Crowley returned the kiss but pushed him once again away after a few moments. 

He quickly snapped his fingers and they were both bare. He greedily took Aziraphale's mouth again and enjoyed devouring his lips. Deep and sensual their tongues came together trying to forge a connection to one another.

He needs to slow down, he thought as they both panted into the kiss.

Slow down! He told himself over and over again. He needed to slow down!

He hardly slowed.

He kissed the angel as he if were trying to suck the very soul from him.

With the angel in his arms, sharing skin to skin contact was driving him wild. His skin was warm and plush just like he had been last night.

No! No, he wasn’t going to do this. He was going to show Aziraphale just how much he meant to him. He deserved better than when Crowley had basically attacked him against his Bently.

Somehow he slowed the kiss down into long sucks, eventually leading to little pecks on the lips.

He then ran his hands along with the angels back moving downwards to his hips. He could feel them dip inward as he got lower and Crowley allowed his expression to grow wicked. 

The angel had dimples.

His hands drifted further and then came around and cupped him nicely. The angel gasped and his breathing hitched as he gazed helplessly at Crowley. His possessive grasp held them together, body against body, not a breath of space between them. He could feel the angel's heart beating like the wings of a small bird in a cage.

He leaned down and gave an opened mouth kiss to the angel's neck. Licking him, savoring the taste. It made his eyes flutter and mouth water even more.

Not taking his mouth from the creamy skin they somehow found the bed and laid down.

Slowly, he pushed their hips together, causing electricity to jolt through them both and making Aziraphale gasp and grab at Crowley's shoulders. 

“Let me _exssssplore_ you.” He hissed.

Crowley kissed and lavished attention as he moved down the angel's body. He took his time to explore and discover the angels most sensitive spots. What made him gasp, what made him whimper. He licked one particular point on his stomach and Aziraphale shuttered under his tongue, but not from pleasure, he had found a tickle spot. The angel stifled a giggle, and Crowley impishly smiled to himself. Of course the angel would be ticklish.

He then followed a soft white trail of curls to the part Aziraphale had taken of his yesterday. He rightly wrapped him in mouth and the angel cried out his name.

 _Yes, yes, yessss,_ he wanted to hear his name on Aziraphale's lips. Always and forever. 

Despite his own body clamoring urgently at him, Crowley forced himself to wait. First tastings were too precious to waste.   
His breath was flighty with a string of soft “oh's” coming from his heaving chest. His wings had appeared and they fluttered helplessly around him. Good to know he hadn’t been the only one.

He began to glow.

It was gradual at first but soon the whole room was lit. Crowley had to break free and look away. He should have kept his glasses on.

“Angel, the light show.”

The light faded so quickly it was like someone had flipped off a switch.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale panted clearly embarrassed. He hid his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean- I didn’t know-“

Crowley quickly climbed up his body. “Never apologize for being you.” He scolded taking his hands away. He didn't like the angel trying to hide from him.

Aziraphale looked miserable at what he’d done and Crowley was having none of that.

"Aziraphale it's alright. So what if you glow?"

Unfortunately, the angel was still distressed and mortified and he tried to scramble away out from under the demon, but Crowley pinned him to the mattress.

“Crowley!”

Crowley shushed him. “That was brilliant Aziraphale and you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m flattered that you liked what I did so much.” He dragged his nose slowly up and down Aziraphale’s cheek. 

Aziraphale's face cleared slowly as Crowley reassured him with attentions, stroking his face and his snow-white wings. The angel's expression was heartbreakingly vulnerable and trusting. Crowley cleared his throat as a lump formed. He couldn’t help but smile tenderly and kiss Aziraphale deeply. It was a wonder how he tasted better and better with every flick of his tongue.

He coaxed him back into the rhythm of things and the angel was once again responding positively to him.

Time became meaningless as they came together.

They moved in sync to one another, as if God had created them special just so they could find each other. Fit like two missing pieces.

It was perfect. They were the perfect pair. Damn all those to hell who thought otherwise. 

This. This was it. This transcended what those filthy humans were so unworthy of. A love created by two compatible souls who cared deeply for one another. In a way he pitied them. They would never know what it would be like to make love to the one you truly treasured beyond your own life. 

Their skins pulsed hot with the beat of each of their hearts, humming together in harmony.

He tried desperately to focus all of his attention to the one beneath him but he was becoming lost. Well not lost, lead to somewhere better.

Aziraphale’s whole body quivered and he cried out, quaking and mewling helplessly with each new pulse that ran through them like an electric current being connected again and again. Just like Crowley, tears begin to leak from his angel's eyes and he tried to kiss each one away.

The angel began to glow intensely again but Crowley ignored it as their combined essences ignited like two twisting firecrackers shooting off into the stars.

Something was happening, something was building, but Crowley didn’t really stop and think about it. His body was on fire and the pain was ever so sweet.

Aziraphale turned pure white and gold, glowing like heated iron. Those ignited firecrackers found their peaks among the celestial heavens and burst forth into a shower of flaming sparks. The angel cried out a sob that was followed with a great shiver. A shockwave burst through the room, startling Crowley. The lights on the end tables didn’t flicker as they had done before, but rather, they completely blew out. 

In fact, Crowley was faintly aware that he could hear lights being blown out down the street.

Slotted together and blended seamlessly, Crowley had shared in Aziraphale’s ecstasy. His vision had been wiped clean and he saw spots dance in his eyes. Tremors ran through him uncontrollably and he keened on an arch, his chest squeezing until the had no more breath. Vibrating, his blood coursed through him like lava and it burned. Oh, it burned so deliciously.  
He could live in that moment forever as long as he was there with Aziraphale.

His bleedin’ wings had come out again and they were stretched taunt towards the ceiling.

Their bodies heaved together as they tried to drag air into their lungs, and their slippery bodies felt melded together.

Crowley didn’t want to move. Couldn’t move. He felt boneless again like he had last night. 

But that was fine because he ventured the angel couldn’t move either. They were locked tightly around each other still shaking. Aziraphale's bright skin dimmed and the room was cast into peaceful darkness.

They laid like that until Crowley shifted to his side so that he could gather a completely exhausted Angel into his arms. 

“Crowley” he whispered, “I glowed again.” He muttered helplessly.

Crowley laughed and kissed the white curls he could see in the dark in front of him and buried his face against Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“I know! I think you took down the blocks power grid! Think of the possibilities, if I make love to you while in the Tower bridge we could stop traffic. Think of all those tourists wining and gripping about the power going out and not seeing the bleein’ thing move!”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale chided. “Someone would undoubtedly see us. What will they think when they see a beacon of light shining through the glass?”

Crowley’s mouth snapped shut and he grew unusually quiet. He curled around the angel tighter. No one. And he meant _No one_ deserved to see his angel that way. It was only for him. He kissed the angels neck. “Never mind.” He murmured into his skin.

With both their wings out and their skin cooling. They snuggled together and kept each other warm. 

Crowley would treasure this. 

He would do so until the end of time and beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note: I have nothing against lawyers, it just seems like there would be more corruption in that job because they are dealing with powers that come with knowing the law and peoples money.


	4. Break up and make up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind and wonderful comments. I read and cherish every one! I had a few more requests to add another chapter and so I did. I hope you all enjoy.

The demon watched his angel sleep. Observed. Took in every possible detail. He had gotten up a while ago but refused to move from the bed. He was too comfortable, but he felt the room was a bit stuffy, so with a flick of his wrist the curtains drew back and the window opened letting in a crisp breeze.

The way the morning sun hit Aziraphale’s hair stole his breath away. Creating an ethereal haze It gave the white locks curling above his head an otherworldly glow. How did he manage to lie there, looking absolutely perfect, the picture of innocence, after what they had done?

Crowley studied him closer, looking for any indication that he had somehow soiled the angel, yet Aziraphale reminded unchanged, saved from corruption.

Each soft breath that left the angels lips were like sighs, bordering on light snores. Thin cotton sheets surround them in their own private oasis, and Aziraphale’s nude form was curled up next to Crowley’s in a submissive and trusting manner. Crowley thought he was the most beautiful creature in creation.

God must have taken extraordinary care when Aziraphale had been crafted in heaven. Every wrinkle, every curl, right down to his smug smile and twittering fingers was flawless.

The demon never thought he would make it back to heaven again, and yet as he laid next to his friend, their legs tangled together, he felt as if he was there once more.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the angel's temple.

Aziraphale's eyes fluttered open and before he could great him good morning the angel's lips were pressed chastely against his.

And in all honesty, he’d had no idea that something so intimate, yet ultimately tame, could feel so good. 

Crowley tried to deepen the kiss but Aziraphale pulled away. “Oh, I don’t think so my dear if we do that I will be tempted not to leave the bed.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Crowley huffed.

“Our work is never done, dear. I can feel heavens influence as we speak.”

He tilled his head and his lips dipped into a small frown.

Crowley tensed. “What is it?” 

“I’m not sure. It feels like a summons.”

Crowley’s slitted eyes grew wide in alarm “You don’t think they know, do you? About us. This.” He waved his hand between the two of them.

“No, no, surely not. The feeling would be different, angrier. Although I do feel like I am in trouble for something.”

“What?”

Aziraphale shook his head “Oh I’m not sure… I haven’t misbehaved…” he looked down at Crowley's bare chest and heat rose to his cheeks, “Much.” He finished as he gave a knowing smile to the serpent in his bed. 

Crowley licked his lips. The angel looked so delectable. He leaned in for another taste but Aziraphle smartly dogged it and leaped from the covers.

Crowley growled, his baser instincts telling him to chase the fleeing principality. 

The angel tucked his white wings away and the warm sun from the window kissed his nude form. Crowley froze in place. Beautiful.

“Now my dear Boy, apparently I must report to the head office, and you, I’m sure must have some dastardly business to get too. Get out of bed.” He waved a hand and the same oatmeal colored clothes wrapped his form up in a pristine manner.

Crowley pulled a pained face. A sneer marring his features. “Nunh.” he grunted. Stupid clothes covering his perfect angel's body. Who’s idea was it to make the nude form bad??? Oh wait...the apple.

He pinched his lips moving on to another thought. Stupid work, he settled on. He should just take the day off. No one would notice if he forged a report.

“Come dear,” Aziraphale said patting the covers,” let’s have breakfast and then we shall part.”

Crowley winced. Again with the food? He rolled his eyes and begrudgingly crawled from the bed.

They ate breakfast in compatible silence, with Aziraphale reading his morning paper and Crowley watching him.

After a few muffins and some bacon with hardboiled eggs, Aziraphale stood and folded his paper neatly on the breakfast table. “Alright, Crowley I shall see you at dinner yes?” He stopped abruptly suddenly looking nervous, “That is if you wish to spend it together. You have no obligation too.” He fretted nervously. “I- I don’t want you to feel like-“ 

Crowley snorted interrupting his stuttering. 

“Yeah, angel I’ll be here for dinner.” 

Although this new thing between them had several avenues to explore, Crowley truly did want to spend all of his free time with the angel.

Aziraphale beamed at him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Alright then.”

He then disappeared and Crowley found himself yawning. With nothing actually pressing on his agenda, he got in his Bently and drove home. His plants could use some watering and he supposed he could mess with the traffic lights on his way there. For a demon, he was feeling rather lazy today and with his amazing night with Aziraphale, it had him in a relaxed and unproductive mood.

A few hours passed in a sluggish sorta way, and Crowley had really been enjoying it. He even briefly considered going out and buying another plant to add to his collection. 

It wasn’t until Crowley felt a gut-wrenching shift, did he realize something was wrong.

It was a very specific one. One he had turned himself to over the centuries to keep an eye on his angel. Aziraphale was in distress. Clearing his head he tried to hone in on his location…The outer Isles? He had done some miracles there yesterday hadn’t he?

Getting ready to follow the angel's distress signal he felt another shift again. 

He wasn’t in the isles anymore and the feeling had gone…Numb.

Confused Crowley cocked his head. Aziraphale was now closer… back at his home. 

He spent no time at all jumping in his Bently and speed off to find his friend.

When he finally found Aziraphale, the angel was just standing there at the center of his shop staring into space.

"Angel? Everything alright?"

Aziraphale almost looked surprised to see him there. “Oh Crowley…” he swallowed slowly... “How was your day?

Crowley nodded at him suspiciously. “You first angel. Something happen?”

Aziraphale turned away from him and he was quiet for a few moments. 

“I-" he faltered, "I messed up Crowley.” He said quietly.

Crowley stood there in confusion. “What’d you mean?”

The angel just shook his head looking hollow. Lost.

“Look whatever it is, I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“No Crowley. This is one mistake I can’t fix. “

“Explain.”

The angel opened his mouth but nothing came out for a few moments. 

His eyes were unfocused, seeing something that Crowley couldn't see.

"Remember that factory fire miracle I did yesterday?"

"The one where you said you were going to save all 30 workers instead of just 27?"

Aziraphale nodded. "I was called into the office today because one of the men that was supposed to die drank himself into a stupor because he was traumatized by the fire. He caused an accident with his car and hit a pole. He's now laying in a hospital paralyzed." 

Aziraphale paused and turned away from Crowley. Gabriel called me in to show me what happened because I disobeyed. He refuses to let me heal the man. He says that because of me saving him and not letting him die at his appointed time, he must now suffer for the rest of his life."

He was quiet for a long time.

Crowley stepped forward “Aziraphale you can't blame yourself. You didn't put the bottle to his lips and you had no way of knowing how the man would react to being saved. This was just a fluke. Mistakes happen.”

 _“People_ Crowley! People make mistakes! I’m an _angel!_ I should have just done as I was told and never have deviated from my assignment. Now because of me, that poor man will never walk again. He's going to suffer... I did that to him."

“Angel it’s no big deal. At least he’s alive. Humans are adapters. He'll adjust to life.”

Aziraphale whirled around angry, “No Crowley you just don’t get it! You could never get it. How could you, you’re a demon your job is to make people miserable!”

Crowley’s felt his face twist into a snarl and him because abrasive. “Hey, just because you messed up angel, doesn’t mean you can take it out on me!” He hissed with venom. "I was just trying to help!"

 _"Well don't!_ You're not helping at all!"

"Fine! Go off and find some other demon willing to listen to your stupid pity party! I'm leaving!"

He saw Aziraphale’s face grow pale as he turned on his heel.

If the angel had called out, if he had stopped him at the door, Crowley would have forgiven his stubborn attitude. 

But he didn't. And so Crowley left.

His gut twisted and his heart sank as the little bell above the shop's door proclaimed his departure.

Let the angel solve his problems on his own. It was obvious he didn't need a demon's help.

He went home and sulked. Aziraphale and him had fought before, but somehow this hurt more than those other times.

Stupid angel. 

Stupid, stubborn, angel. 

Stupid, stubborn, wonderful, angel. 

He growled.

Crowley lay on his ceiling looking down into his living room. He supposed he could go out and cause some trouble to forget his woes. There was a local concert happening tonight, he could go cause some trouble there but he just wasn’t feeling it. 

He rolled to his side and hated the way he felt. He wasn’t really angry with Aziraphale. He knew the angel well enough to know that he hadn’t meant what he said. He just needed time. 

He huffed irritated.

Crowley could give him time.

All they had was time.

Crowley could understand where Aziraphale was coming from. 

Frustrated and angry, taking emotions out on the nearest thing. He could be like that sometimes, his plants often being his outlet, so he understood. 

He had hardly seen Aziraphale behave in such a way but the angel had shown his fair amount of fits over the years. He would just have to wait until the angel calmed down.

He pulled his knees to his chest. That still didn’t mean that he didn’t want to comfort his angel, even when he wasn’t wanted. 

All he wanted to do was make it better.

Alcohol. He needed some Alcohol. They probably both need some.

But for some reason, the thought made his mood darker.

Alcohol was a fun pastime that he and the angel usually entertained together. It always loosened each other up after a ruff job or two. 

He always thought it was extremely funny to watch an innocent angel like Aziraphale get drunk and suggest he spread drugs faster with fruit baskets or some other such nonsense.

Yes, he could always rely on their drinking sessions to comfort them both.

But that didn't seem to be the right answer to comforting the angel.

He briefly wondered if he could comfort the angel with physically. Did sharing bodies work like that?

If he made love to the angel would he be comforted? Or would it make the angel feel like Crowley was ignoring his problems only to satisfy his own sexual needs?

Crowley suddenly sat up. No, he knew what he had to do. He would make up some reason for healing the paralyzed man, he doubted hell would actually look too closely at his demonic deeds.

But that was the answer.

It took him all night as he whisked himself to several hospitals in the isles, but he eventually finally found and healed the paralyzed man. 

Now he just had to wait for Aziraphale to find him which didn't take long.

Shortly after he arrived home to once again lie on his ceiling he felt his satanic wards being crossed as someone entered his home. He knew exactly who it was too. He had made only one exception to those spells. 

Aziraphale was in his house.

He watched as Aziraphale appeared below him, hesitantly entering his space. In all the years Crowley had been living here, Aziraphale had never visited and Crowley had never invited him, except for of course when Aziraphales book shop had burned down right after they had saved the world. Before then, Crowley didn’t dare invite the angel over. 

He was perfectly willing to risk his own life, being caught at Aziraphale's bookshop, but he would never have forgiven himself if Aziraphale had been caught unawares in his home by a fellow demon or another angel. 

It was obvious the angel was looking for him, but he never glanced up, and so Crowley didn’t reveal himself. He was curious to see what the angel would do.

He watched as Aziraphale drift through his flat, wandering from room to room, his fingers ghosting over things he didn't quite touch.

Crowley followed him silently from the ceiling. 

The angel never called out for him, and he was glad. It was taking everything within him not to run to the angel and try and makeup.

He followed him to the long hallway that branched off from the main room heading towards where he kept his plants.

When Aziraphale saw them he stopped.

“My what lovely things." He murmured. "Such a healthy green. He must take very good care of you. I haven’t seen anything as lush as you darlings since my time in Eden.” 

He carefully ran a delicate touch over the nearest leaf and Crowley could see the plant leaning up into his hand like he was a warm sunbeam, acting like a touch starved cat curling up into his hand.

It was then Crowley finally decided to open his mouth and speak. “You’re going to spoil them, angel.”

Aziraphale jumped and turned around looking up.

“Crowley," Aziraphale said softly, staring at him on the ceiling. 

Crowley, as casually as possible, walked his way down the nearest wall and came to stand in front of him a few feet away.

Every fiber of his being wanted to close the gap between them and pull Aziraphale into a hug, but he couldn't seem to do it. His legs were shaky at best and he didn’t want to give away how glad he was to see the tartan wearing angel.

“Come here for something?” He drawled trying his best to sound disinterested as possible. “Or did you wish ta fight some more?”

Aziraphale made a face like he had been struck.

“Ah, yes, well...” The angel's lip began to wobble and he shook his head a little as looked down at his shoes. 

Crowley had seen this side of the angel before. It was rare but it did happen. He could tell the angel was feeling truly sorry for his actions. It was displayed clearly on every inch of his face. What he wasn’t expecting was what the angel did next.

Aziraphale put a hand over his eyes and made a noise that conveyed a broken sob. When he spoke, his voice trembled, fragmented and raw.

“I’m sorry Crowley. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to snap at you, and you were only trying to help me.” He began to weep in earnest, “I hope you can understand- hope you can f-forgive me,” he blubbered as he gave a little hiccup, “ I d-don’t want to throw away all we’ve achieved together.” His body shook violently as he stood in place looking so helpless in the center of the room.

Crowley felt himself shatter. He had never, not once seen the angel truly cry. Hurt, yes, teary-eyed from their pleasure together, yes, but full-on broken sobs? Absolutely not. Not even when they thought the world was ending, did Aziraphale cry. Yet here he was in Crowley’s flat sobbing uncontrollably.

Every last ounce of self-control he had broke and he closed the distance between them, gathering the angel in his arms. He removed Aziraphale’s hand from his face and looked into the pure blue pools framed by red rims. All he wanted to do was ease the pain he saw inside of his friend. He slid his fingers along Aziraphale's jaw, holding him steady as Crowley touched their lips together.

Their kiss was wet with Aziraphale’s tears but Crowley didn’t care. He kissed Aziraphale thoroughly hoping to convey that everything was going to be okay. 

They were okay.

They mutually broke apart and Aziraphale’s succulent breath fanned across his lips in hesitant wisps. 

“Forgive me, Crowley,” He breathed out between them. “Please.”

“Already forgotten.” 

Aziraphale’s face practically melted in relief “Thank you.” He croaked closing his eyes and wrapping himself around Crowley.

They stood there for a long time holding each other. Physicality between them was something Crowley was still getting used to. For centuries it had been light touches and sly fingers, which until recently had elevated to sharing their bodies completely with one another. Now Crowley was awaked to a new type of touch. One of comfort. They simply held each other and that seemed to be enough. It was a strange concept but one he quickly adapted too. Crowley placed his head on the angel's shoulder and watched a sunspot from a nearby window creep across his gray cement floor.

It wasn’t until it reached the wall that Aziraphale spoke.

“I felt what you did. You healed that man.”

Crowley shrugged in the embrace. Not admitting to anything.

“You’re a kind soul. Even though you say you’re not.”

He was not kind. He had only healed the man because of Aziraphale, but he wasn’t going to start another possible argument. He did not want to fight with Aziraphale for the next century or so. Verbally spar perhaps, but nothing like this.

He squeezed the angel in a deeper hug and discovered something hard pressing against his thigh.

“So was this where the night is going?” He teased leaning back to look down at the angel mischievously.

Aziraphale looked confused at first before the comprehension of the situation took hold.

He blushed, “Actually no.” He pulled a little red box from his front pocket.

“I um, I have a present for you. It’s sort of an apology present. I got it for you back 1559. At the time, it was a thank you present for covering a miracle for me, but after acquiring it I had doubts on whether or not you’d accept it so I tucked it away.”

Surprised Crowley blinked down at the little box offered up to him in Aziraphale’s hand. 

“You got me a gift?”

He took the box curious to see what was inside.

“I’ve actually gotten you many gifts over the years, but once I acquired them... I lost the nerve to giving you any. I have a trunk in my house full of the things I kept. This being one of them.”

Removing the lid Crowley pulled out a long golden chain with an oval pendant on the end. It was a snake coiled around an inlaid ruby the color of wine. It had a buttery gold satin finish, with diamonds that sparkled along with the scales and marvelous marquise diamond eyes. The details were incredible. The snake looked ferocious, ready to strike, with his arched nostrils and four tiny sharpened fangs. 

He ran his thumb across it.

If he had seen this at the time he would have definitely worn it.

“Where did you get this?” 

“Well at the time I knew Queen Marry of Scott’s she had a few sample pieces made and the ones she didn’t like she gave away. I asked for this piece, which was wrapped around some other gem at the time and replaced it with this ruby. The snake reminded me of you and I thought it would have paired quite nicely with that red doublet and jerkin you used to wear.”

Crowley had no clue what Aziraphale was talking about, he couldn’t recall his outfit at the time.

“Do you like it?” 

It was Then Crowley noticed Aziraphale had been waiting for a response with bated breath. He nervously twittered about, rocking slightly on his toes an expression of true worry in his eyes.

“Yes, it’s rather attractive.” He mumbled flippantly running his thumb over the gem. Although he didn’t think it would look good with anything he’d wear this day and age, he still couldn’t believe it. His angel had been collecting gifts for him over the years but had been to afraid to him any. His chest warmed and he was intensely touched.

“The other gifts, are they all baubles like this?” he asked holding it up into the light streaming in from the window. 

“Some. But not all.”

Screw it. Crowley thought as he lifted the necklace and hung the piece around his neck. The long chain hung low and the snake was almost touching his belly. He spread his arms out in show. “What you think?”

The delighted smile that lit the angels face nearly melted his soul. How could the ruddy angel look so happy? His eyes twinkled and his cheeks took on their usual faint heavenly glow.

“I think you look quite dashing,” Aziraphale said looking down at his feet shyly. “But then again, you always do.”

“Come off it,” Crowley said pulling a face, but there was no anger behind his statement. He himself was feeling quite pleased by Aziraphales reaction.

The angel smiled coyly and raised himself to plant a chaste kiss on the demons cheek. 

Crowley, before he realized what he was doing, quickly turned and snatched the angel up in his arms. He attacked the angel's lips with bruising force, devouring the cry of surprise that came from Aziraphale’s mouth. 

He wasn’t gentle as he shoved them backwards to the nearest wall, kissing the angel hungrily. Kiss after scorching kiss filled the room with sounds of heavy breathing that were harsh, fast and wet, accompanied whimpers and broken moans coming from both of them as they tried to desperately to get closer together.

Crowley didn’t quite understand this suddenly dire need to make love to his angel. Was it because they had fought? Was it somehow a self-reassurance thing? To completely make sure that they were now back to normal? Or was he simply just starved for the angles touch?

Perhaps all of that and more, but at the moment he was losing the ability to care. He needed Aziraphale and he was going to take him.

He heard the shaking of leaves around the room and he suddenly realized they had an audience of giggling plants.

He abruptly broke away from the angel who looked dazed and confused at the sudden loss of the demon. 

“Crowley?” 

Crowley glared around the room and the plants froze in place. “Not here angel.” He hissed.

“What?”

“Not here.”

He took the angels hand and whisked them away to a place where he knew they would never be bothered.

Alpha Centauri.

The trickle of time meant nothing to the ethereal beings. Stars in the vast expanses of space surrounded them as nebulas twirled about as they had been doing since the dawn of their own creation. Here in a small pocket of fabricated reality. Crowley had created a space just for them.

There he had been making love to his angel for several hours.

“Crowley-“ Aziraphle choked. “P-please, I can’t, _N-nuh!_ I can’t-“

Wreaked, weak and overstimulated from pleasure Aziraphale’s soft cries fell on deaf ears. 

“Just one more angel, just one more, for me?” Crowley whispered tenderly from behind, kissing the angels shoulder.

They both knew it was a lie. But what could he say? He was a demon. A demon with a point to prove. 

His shapes, his skin... the way, the angel screamed his name...

He could no sooner let go of the soft back against his chest than to throw himself into the nearest star. 

The angel's pale thighs begin to violently quake, sending shiver after shiver running up through his spine. The tremors spread up the angels tightening form and his jaw went slack with a quiet noise. His eyes fluttered shut as he gently pressed himself backward further into Crowley’s embrace.

His skin began to glow like the stars around them. Brighter and brighter they burned together until they reached a peak and with a guttural hiss of from Crowley's lips, and rapturous keening cry from the angel, their combined wails roared across the heavens.

Deep purple and gold nebulas blazed to life, spinning faster around them, igniting alongside side them with their all-consuming heat. Just like the many times before, interstellar bodies exploded behind their eyes, creating galaxies to form and crash into one another. Celestial pieces fell all around them, shooting off twinkling showers of sparks of joy.

How could Crowley ever experience anything better than this? This was transient. It was everything.

Crowley held his eyes closed lost in the sensations. He could feel the universe move them. He felt it breathe in and expand. Smaller stars danced around them in a kaleidoscope of colors almost in a celebration of their meeting souls.

It lasted for a very long time.

They were held suspended, glued together in another plane of pleasure. Both their wings were held taunt and their muscles shook from pure ecstasy.

Crowley cradled his sunbeam as he took the angel from behind. Aziraphale beamed powerful rays of light that displayed their lovemaking like a beacon to the universe. If one looked from the earth he was sure they might have thought another star had appeared in the night sky.

Aziraphale's slowly came down from the high as the glowing subsided. Little hiccuping sobs made their way out of his mouth as the last ebbs of ecstasy slowly left him. Crowley pressed him close, petting his velvety curls back from his forehead, pecking kisses sweetly across to his cheek softly shushing him. "There's my angel, come back to me."

Crowley continued to move slowly, rocking them in a lulling rhythm. He kissed and licked until he felt the heat beginning to coil in his soul once more. He needed to take the angel again. 

And again and again. He would show the angel just how they were meant to be.

Aziraphles body was boneless against his with a dazed look in his eyes, but whimpers still fell from his pretty red and swollen lips, encouraging Crowley on. He could tell the angel was beginning to feel the coiling heat come alive between them once more.

“Again angel. Again.” Crowley urged into the angel's seashell pink ear. He clung to his cherub with everything he had. He would fight for this for the rest of eternity.

Aziraphale's head fell back against Crowley’s shoulder in a surrendering sob. “Yes.” He choked out, brokenly nodding unable to say no. “Again.” He rasped. Tears streamed down Aziraphale’s cheeks and Crowley kissed what he could reach away. If Aziraphale was ever to cry, it would be because of their love, not because of hurt ever again.

Gentle yet unrelating in his heartbreakingly slow pace, Crowley never stopped bringing them together. 

“Oh, angel.” He sighed dragging his cleaver fingers across the heavenly lit skin, which was beginning to glow again, “Aziraphale.” He nipped his way gently up and down his angel neck. Sweet like honeysuckle and tender from his previous administrations. 

“So good angel. You feel _ssssso_ good to me.” He bit Aziraphale’s ear lobe and heard a whimper escape the angel's sweet mouth. He lingered there for a long moment, dragging his tongue under the lobe desperately trying to draw out another cry of delight. 

Crowley was lost in the softness, lost in the plushness of the angel’s flesh. Every touch of skin, pulsed heavily with heat. His blood sang with every gasp he elicited from Aziraphale and he was slowly losing his ability to think straight. All that mattered was Aziraphale. His body. His soul. His everything, all open for Crowley’s taking.

Aziraphale moaned and turned his head searching for Crowley’s lips. The kiss was sloppy but perfect. Kissing from behind was hard but somehow worth it. He broke the kiss and trailed his lips down the angel's neck to the crook of his shoulder. He smelled of leather books and old paper. Of candlelight and creamy tea. He smelled of love. Closing his eyes the demon focused all of his energy on pleasing Aziraphale until he was squealing on top of Crowley, gasping his name. The angel's chest began to heave in earnest and Crowley did his best to keep the angel contained on his lap. 

_"Crowley, Crowley, Crowley"_ his name was beautiful tumbling from the angel's lips. It was a plea, a prayer, a promise all wrapped up into one. He could almost convince himself that it was his true heavenly given name, instead of the one he had created for himself.

Dragging his lips down from the angels rounded shoulder to the center of his shoulder blades Crowley lavished the tension out of the muscles between the apex of his large white wings. Warm and inviting Crowley buried his face among the feathers hoping to muffle some of the sounds he was beginning to make. He couldn’t stop his moans. He wouldn’t. This angel was his and his alone. They needed each other. Depended on one another. Their fates had been twinned together since that very first rainstorm.

His hands run down Aziraphale's sides finding his thighs, eliciting an almost coo from the angel. Finding out just how sensitive to touch Aziraphale really was had been one of the most satisfying revelations Crowley had ever discovered. Like hell, if he wasn’t was going to abuse that knowledge every chance he got, from now until eternity.

Crowley hummed in his ear as the angel grasped about desperately for the tops of his hands. 

He interlaced their fingers and smiled wickedly. 

Running his thumb over the angel's knuckles, he squeezed, and he was rewarded with a squeeze back. That only served to make his smile grow downright devilish in nature.

"You're perfect angel." He panted.

They moved together, slowly, kindly, pushing against each other drawing gasps from each other's throats. Crowley’s hips canted up in gentle, rising rolls that crashed against the angels welcoming from like a wave on a beach. It was difficult but he pulled his hands free from Aziraphales crushing grip and stroked along the angel's hips before his fingers wandered between his legs.

Electricity shot through them both as Crowley grasped what he was looking for.

He could feel Aziraphale's very soul shutter through his body and he tensed up from feeling Crowley's touch.

"Crowley! Please! I-I need-"

"What do you need my dove?" He said with a suck to his neck.

Aziraphale could only wail in pleasure as an answer. 

"Say it, and it's yours."

Aziraphles frame quivered as his flushed body heaved trying to drag in the air.

"Say it, and it's _yourssss."_ Crowley hissed through his teeth, administering a punishing stroke.

"You." The angel squeaked out as his skin lit once more with a heavenly glow bursting forth to envelop them in light.

"Then you can have me," Crowley said with a grunt slightly picking up his pace.

They both cried out and the cosmos around them delighted in their souls melding together. Tipped over the edge, groaning each other's names, their toes curled, and their backs-arched with wings punishingly stretched to their limits. They were shaking, their visions white.

Everything shattered and came together in the most beautiful symphony of a white-hot rush, casing nearby stars to go supernova. 

Lightheaded and floating in a sea of euphoria they held on to one another. it was the only thing they could do. 

Crowley was the first one to gain some semblance of thought.

They would have fights. It was unavoidable, but Crowley wanted to make it perfectly clear that he didn’t care as long as they made up like this. This was theirs. They belonged to Each other. Their own side. And no matter where they had to go, whether it be to a bed or the stars, he would always prove it to his angel.


End file.
